Another Way of Putting It
by Kaarina Helvete
Summary: Continuation of the oneshot, "Always". Zack's not dead, Cloud is. We'll go from there! Also ZackxCloud is canon in this story. Let's see how that works since Cloud is dead. Yeah.
1. To Midgar

Continuation of "Always". Please read that first, or this will not really make sense 8I

Sorry this took so LONG. I'm only releasing this part because it's been so long. Summer vacation is upon me, and I still haven't written very much. Keep nagging, people! It gets results.

* * *

Now, the pain was making him forget everything else.

His ragged breathing, his heart thundering in his chest, and the scraping of his massive sword behind him were the only things he could hear anymore. And it hurt, everywhere. He thought he had it bad before, but this took the cake. His hands trembled as he gripped his sword's hilt, dragging it along. He found he couldn't carry it on his back anymore. It pained him to let it fall, but he didn't give it a second thought when he felt every thread of his existence burning with exhaustion and pain.

He strained his neck with a generous amount of effort, and looked to see how far he had traveled, how much farther he had to go until he could stop and rest for a moment. The trademark black clouds of smog, as well as the large radius of bare and ruined landscape could be seen even from where he was standing. He still had a ways to go, it seemed. Then again, his judge of distance-of anything, for that matter-was severely impaired at the moment. The pain and the exhaustion were making it exceedingly difficult to concentrate on getting to Midgar.

Cloud… He was the only thing keeping Zack moving now. It's funny how an intangible idea could motivate one so… Cloud didn't exist anymore. He had been shot full of holes, and then he disappeared into the lifestream. He was gone.

And all Zack seemed to remember about him were the horrible parts. The parts where he was lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, whimpering and crying in pain. Where he was begging to stay alive, afraid of dying. All Zack could remember was how hopeless the situation was. There was no possible way he could change anything that had happened. He was only one man, and Shinra had accounted for every conceivable factor that could lead to Zack's success. It was hopeless. Cruel. Despicable.

It was all he could think about amidst the absurd amount of pain he was in.

How the hell was he still alive? How many times had he been shot, fifty? Something like that. Well, probably not—that was a little too absurd. But it was still absurd. What's that kind of cheese with a bunch of holes in it? Swiss cheese? He probably looked like that from a viewer's standpoint. But then again, if there were any viewers, they would be virtuous to help him out, considering how he could barely stand. Was he even standing? It felt like he was crawling most of the time. He must have decided somewhere along the line that it would be a much better idea to crawl, because he was now on his face, in the dirt.

He didn't even moan. He was beyond that kind of exertion. So much for making it to Midgar, easily. Who was he kidding? If a monster came along, he was dead. So far, he had been lucky. Relatively. But if a monster came out of the rocks and weeds, and attacked him for some reason, he was dead. A Cactuar, even. He wouldn't even be able to survive a freaking Cactuar attack. The little spined thing would beat him to death and leave him to bake in the sun. He felt the dirt sting his face the longer he lay there, wondering if he should even get up. He still had no plan. Well, no specific plan. He wanted to blow up the Shinra headquarters, but he had no idea how he would do it. Especially when he could barely move. That usually made it hard to blow up things.

The army had it easy. They could all move just fine before he cut them all in half. They could throw grenades and blow shit up easily. Zack couldn't do that anymore. He stopped mid-thought, and laughed. It was a weak and incredibly painful laugh, but he needed it at the moment. The army couldn't do that anymore, either. Because he cut them in half. He struggled to push himself back up, his arms shaking. It would be even more amusing when Shinra fell victim to the wrath of a supposedly dead man. You know, considering he had been marked as killed in action five years ago. That kind of dead.

He didn't remember reaching the city. He remembered going through the movements of walking, but only vaguely. His exhaustion and pain had put him into an almost robotic state, where all he could think was, "move". But apparently he had finally made it. It was hard to believe, but he got over that thought quickly.

The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was the smell of a completely dead city—nothing grew there, ever. He smelled cars and factories, and most of all he smelled the reactors, churning away and contributing to the gigantic black cloud of smog that hung over the city. A faint memory of his early days resurfaced in his brain, and he remembered the first time he had come to the city, to join SOLDIER. He had to breathe through the top of his sweater to keep from gagging constantly, before he finally got used to it. Now, he would have to get used to it once again. The next thing he noticed was the thick, polluted air that was murder to his lungs. If he thought it had been hard to breathe before, it was almost impossible now.

The next thing he noticed was the noise. It was… overpowering. Like the planet itself was just yelling at him to lie down and die. But he couldn't. Not until Shinra fell. Even though it would be so much easier to just lie down and sleep through his last few breaths. Even though he could see Cloud again if he did. He had to live, just for a little while longer.

His thoughts were too slow. He only vaguely registered the train whistle, but it made him pry his eyes up from the ground. People were scurrying around him like he wasn't even there. Good for him. Shinra wouldn't find him if people weren't looking. He looked around with some difficulty, and recognized the Sector 7 train station. Sector 7. It was relatively close to Sector 5. Aerith lived there. Maybe she would help him…?

If she really did still live there. If she would forgive him for abandoning her for five years. For loving someone else. He still liked her, but was it the same as…? He shook his head to clear it. He didn't wanna think about it right now. His head was pounding, and someone was talking in his ear and it was annoying.

"Hello? Are you okay?"

It was a woman's voice. He couldn't see her though, because he was on his knees, holding himself up with his sword. Looking at the ground. The ground seemed more and more inviting the longer he looked at it.

"You look hurt… Do you need to go to the hospital?" She sounded concerned.

Then it finally clicked in his mind that someone was talking to him. That wasn't very good, since he was trying to stay hidden from Shinra. He raised his head, ready to face whoever it might be.

She had rich brown eyes, that almost looked red for a moment. And dark brown hair. He might have noticed those first because she was leaning over to speak to him. He blinked at the lights overhead, and then noticed the huge things that were rather close to his head. Were those… her boobs?

He stared for a few seconds, blinking. Seriously? There's no way that boobs could be so… Well, he supposed they could. There was this girl he met in Nibelheim who had a really nice rack, and she was only fifteen. He was getting delirious. He needed to sleep, or something. But lying here on the ground wasn't a good idea, he had to remind himself. But wait, wasn't this girl trying to help him? Wait, she had said "hospital", right? Nope. Can't go there.

"Wh-Why not? You look… horrible." Her voice shook as she looked him over. Had he said that out loud? "Are those… gunshot wounds? All of those?" She put a hand on his shoulder. "I really think you should get help. Here, let me help you." She put her hand around his waist to help him up.

Hadn't she heard him? He couldn't go to the stupid hospital…! He shoved her off with amazing strength—compared to someone who was almost dead, that is. She had to understand him before she did anything stupid. "I can't go to the hospital…" He found that he was sitting, now. He had fallen over on his rear when he shoved her. He had probably done himself more damage to himself than her. She just knelt there, frowning.

"Why? You need help—"

"They'll find me… I can't… go back there…"

He suddenly realized that he wasn't afraid to die. He just didn't want Shinra to win. And if they found him, they wouldn't kill him. They would keep him alive, maybe give him back to Hojo. He'd never be given the chance to escape again.

But he was so weak… He didn't even think he could pull himself up onto his feet anymore. He'd have to crawl. And how obvious would that look, him being a SOLDIER and all? How many wounded SOLDIER were outside, avoiding Shinra at all costs? He didn't know what to do anymore. He was stupid to think he could make it.

"Okay, uh… Let me get my friends, okay? They'll help me take you home, to my place. It's nowhere near the hospital, promise." She seemed to be calming down. Shy did she care so much? No one else did… "I'll be right back, okay?" She got up and ran off, almost faster than he could register it in his mind.

Was she going to help him? He didn't know. He didn't think he had the mental capacity to care, either. If she was going to help, then great. If she wasn't, then oh well. He had literally done everything he could. He had already given it his all. He didn't have anything left. So there really wasn't anything else he could do than just lie down and sleep for now. So he did.

* * *

Tifa Lockhart was really glad she had such dependable friends. They actually helped her carry this guy all the way back to the bar, and didn't ask many questions. Though it was a little surprising, since they were carrying a rather messed up SOLDIER, which just looked like trouble in so many ways. Where did he come from, and how did he _get_ so messed up? And what was a SOLDIER doing out all alone, with no Shinra comrades to help him? It was all too shady for her taste, and surely for the others as well.

But there was something about him, something familiar. Oh, who was she kidding? He was a spitting image of that guy she met back in Nibelheim. At least she thought so… She'd never forget his hair, or his eyes. She frowned at having forgotten his name, though. She stared at him as he lay on her couch, while her friends went out to find a doctor—some shady underground doctor that wouldn't leave any information behind for Shinra to find. It was all she could offer, and hopefully it would at least keep him alive for a while longer.

She sat there, conflicted. She had grown to hate Shinra, for various reasons. And that included the SOLDIER who worked for Shinra. Living in Midgar had shown her just how many awful things the company let happen all the time. A great company like Shinra was supposed to protect its citizens, and help them to lead better lives. But all it did was con people into poverty, and use their forces to oppress those who would try to climb higher in life. And that man she had met, he was a SOLDIER. He was one of them. He had let her home burn to the ground, and let everyone in the village die.

But she couldn't help thinking that it wasn't all his fault, and that he was a good person. He seemed like it, back then. He'd gone to fight Sephiroth, right? He wanted to stop the madman from doing any more damage. He was trying to protect her. She frowned as she thought back, trying to remember every little detail—the complete _opposite_ of what she had been doing for the last five years.

What had happened next?

She remembered waking up in the Midgar hospital, all alone, but nothing before that. She'd heard later that Sephiroth had been killed, along with that man. Maybe they'd killed each other. But then again, Shinra wasn't always reliable in their publishing of accurate information. That would explain this man's sudden appearance in Midgar. What if Shinra fired him, for some reason? Could SOLDIER even be fired conventionally, or were they just killed off? Suddenly her hypothesis was starting to make sense. She didn't have any more time to think about it though, before the door swung open to the bar, and in came Biggs.

The man breathed heavily as he held open the door for the other two that came through. There was a woman wearing a red band tied around her forehead, and a man with black hair and glasses. He looked considerably more cheerful than the others.

Biggs spoke first. "This guy is all we could find. He promises not to tell anyone, and he doesn't use paperwork." He frowned, as if he still weren't satisfied.

"Well, if he does end up causing trouble, we could easily get rid of him." The woman smirked, looking all too serious to any observers. The spectacled man brushed it off lightly.

"You won't have to worry about anything from me, promise! Now, where's the patient?" He smiled gleefully. Whoever this was, he was definitely shady. Tifa could only hope he was good at his job. He carried a small work box, so she assumed he at least had the tools for the job.

Biggs motioned inside the back room where she sat next to the SOLDIER. The shady doctor came in and leaned over the man on the couch. "This isn't the best of positions to be operating in… but I suppose it's all we have. Could I get a chair?" He looked expectantly at Tifa, not at all hiding his desire for her to move.

Tifa frowned. "A-Ah, yes… Do you need anything else?" She stood and got out of the way. She thought it best to keep him happy.

The doctor waved her off. "Just space is all. I won't lie; this guy is in horrible shape. And this is the first time I've worked on a living being, so I don't know if he'll still be living when I'm done!" He laughed. Tifa clenched her jaw together. She moved to the doorway and went to get a chair. Biggs and Jessie were at the bar, trying their best to ignore the situation. Tifa grabbed a chair from one of the tables, and brought it to the doctor. He was already pulling out tools and setting them on the small end table he'd taken the liberty of using. She took comfort in the sight of clean-looking utensils, and left herself to fret. Whatever happened next depended on the skills of this complete stranger.

* * *

I am so sorry for poking fun at Tifa's boobs. It was immature and tactless.

Not really |:D HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT.

P.S. Kudos to whoever guesses where I got the doctor from. Tis an anime. I tried my best to match his personality |:D The irony hurts once you realize it. Also did I use the word "shady" enough? I think I did.


	2. Friends? The hell are those?

A/N: So I tried to write something longer but OH WELL HERE'S THIS.

Also crap I forgot page breaks why does it take them out *cries*

* * *

It was a couple hours of painful worrying before the man came to the doorway. He looked less than cheerful this time, though. Tifa sprung up, composed herself, and walked over to him. "Is he...?"

The man wrung his hands. "Well, I wasn't able to get all the bullets out. Some are just too deep, or they're in places that, if I messed with them, would probably kill him in no time. I didn't want to do anything without your approval." he pursed his lips, thinking.

Tifa stared at him, unsure of what to say. He was the doctor, not her! But she didn't want the man to die. If would be all her fault, for not taking him to a hospital... But the man had told her not to, so what else could she do? "Is there anything else?" She decided it would be best to leave it up to the doctor.

The man put a finger to his lip and thought. "Well, if I had a Cure materia, it would make things a _lot_ easier... He might actually survive if I had that. You have any?" He looked at her expectantly.

Tifa frowned. She could get one, but it would cost a lot. She couldn't afford that _and _the doctor's payment. If they needed anything right then, it was money. "I don't have one on me..."

"Oh, and don't worry about money! If you get me a Cure, then just give me that as payment. It helps me, because then I don't have to go out onto the streets to find one!" He smiled. "Does that make it easier?"

Tifa bit her lip, then nodded. "I'll get one. Please keep him alive...!" She turned and left him. She told Jessie and Biggs to hold down the fort, and to make sure Marlene stayed in bed, then she ran out into the streets.

She figured if she was going through all this trouble to save a man she barely knew, she might as well go all the way. So she put her thoughts of cost aside, and went to find a Cure. She might be able to find one on the street, but she was in a hurry. She knew there was a shop in Sector 5 that sold materia, and that would take a while, but that way it was almost guaranteed that she would get what she needed.

And so it was. The shop had two in stock, so she bought one and left. Her walk was uneventful, since she didn't stop for anything else, and she didn't bother paying attention to the goings-on around her. All she cared about was saving this one man. If she could save one person, who knew what else she could do? But it was also reversible—if she _couldn't_ save this man... then what else could she do? So she hurried back.

She pushed her way through the doors and found Jessie sleeping in one of the booths. Biggs looked over his shoulder from his seat at the bar. "Hey, I helped myself to your tap. Did you find it?" He probably had a talk with the good doctor about why his friend had run out the door so quickly.

Tifa nodded. "I got it. You guys can go home now, if you want. You don't have to stay." She bit her lip, sorry that she was causing so much trouble.

Biggs smiled. "In a bit. Don't worry 'bout us, kay? Go help your friend in there." He turned back to his drink without another word.

Tifa smiled gratefully, then made her way to the back room again. The doctor himself was slumped in a chair in the corner, snoring away. Tifa shook him awake.

"Daaaaahjabahaba... wha? Oh! Hi!" The doctor rubbed his eyes. "I must have dozed off. Did you get it?"

Tifa held out the Cure to him. She couldn't help but think this had better work, or there was going to be trouble.

The man got back to work. Usually people had to learn how to use materia, but this man looked quite able, as if he'd had experience already. He healed the wounds he had already taken bullets out of, then started to work on the ones where he hadn't. Tifa watched as he focused on one hole, and the green glow that seemed to envelop it. The doctor scowled in concentration, gradually pulling the bullet out magically and healing what was behind it simultaneously. Finally, it popped out and the doctor grabbed it, grinning.

"One down, about twenty to go!" He giggled, then started on another one.

Tifa turned and left. It was a little too much for her to look at. Bullets just popping out on their own? Such was the power of magic, apparently. Not to mention the man was riddled with holes... It was a marvel he was still alive. She went back to the bar, where Jessie and Biggs were just leaving. She said goodnight to them, and sat down to wait some more.

The doctor worked on into the early morning, and stopped only to ask for a sandwich. Tifa ended up falling asleep at the bar, and the doctor had to shake her awake. She rubbed her eyes and looked up at the doctor. In spite of the grin he wore on his face, he looked much worse for wear. It must have taken a lot out of him to heal that many wounds.

"Well, he's not dead yet. And I don't think he will be for a long time! Well, he might, but my point is, if he _does_ die, don't blame me. I did what I could for the man, which was a _lot._ So..." he rubbed the back of his neck. "I should be on my way, then?"

Tifa blinked. It was done? She could go in without freaking out now? "There's nothing more you can do?"

The doctor shook his head. "He's all healed up. If you're lucky, his body should get over the shock and he'll wake up today. If not, then later." He laughed. "But yes, I should get going. Thank you so much for the opportunity! And if you ever require my services again..." He opened the doors to leave. "... you know where to find me." He bowed, and left.

Tifa watched him leave, then smiled. Maybe everything would be alright after all. Saving one man was a nice start to ridding the world of evil, after all.

* * *

The first thing he noticed was his throbbing head.

He groaned. This was nothing new. What ditch had he fallen into this time? He must have passed out after hitting the ground a final time. He figured out which way was up, then motioned to push himself up. When his hands sank into something soft, his eyes shot open, looking around. Then he fell off the sofa he was lying on.

He hit the floor with a loud thud. He groaned again, then realized something. He wasn't in excruciating pain. He wasn't deathly exhausted. And he felt like he might be able to stand up properly, and maybe walk without dragging his feet. He was a little tired, and his head hurt a little, but… it was strangely bearable. Almost like he was healed or something!

Then he realized he was in someone's house.

He blinked. How the hell did he get there? The last thing he remembered was falling over in the dirt... oh wait. He fell multiple times. But the last time, he was definitely in Midgar. Right after he saw that huge pair of tits-

OH.

He scrambled up, tripping and almost falling back on his rear end, but he caught himself right before. He was in some girl's house. At least, that's what he deduced from the situation. Why was he in some girl's house? Why wasn't he in horrible pain? He thought for a moment, as he looked around the room more. It was sparsely furnished, with a sofa he'd just fallen out of, a couple end tables, a desk by the window, and a rug by the door. His Buster Sword was leaning against the desk in the corner. He sighed with relief. Whoever helped him (he was assuming someone had helped him, since he was no longer doubled over, ready to die) hadn't intended on stealing anything from him. Then he examined his poor blade. It was chipped and scratched all over from his numerous battles, and covered in dirt. Angeal was probably reprimanding him from the Lifestream right about now.

Then he noticed the voices outside the door. There was a low, indistinguishable murmured voice that was answered by a more powerful, definitely male, voice. They sounded like they were arguing. Zack didn't want to barge in on a sensitive situation, but he really wanted to get some answers. He carefully opened the door and slid out, not making a sound. He crept closer to the voices, eavesdropping...

* * *

"No, you're not getting' it, Tifa. What I'm askin' is, why the hell is there a SOLDIER in the back room!?"

Tifa tried to calm the man. "Barret, you'll wake Marlene-!"

Barret grunted in frustration, the muscles in his jaw rippling. He spoke in a slightly quieter tone. "Alright, why's there a SOLDIER in the back room? Ya know we can't have that!"

Tifa bit her thumb. "If I told you he was a friend, would you believe me?"

Barret frowned deeper. "Tha' depends on if you're lyin' or not. Why'd you be friends with a SOLDIER?"

Tifa wrung her hands, anxiously. "He helped me, back before I came here. He saved my life. I owe him at least this much." She frowned at the floor, unable or unwilling to meet his gaze.

Barret visibly clenched his jaws tighter, thinking. "We can't afford ta have anyone ruin our plans-!" He raised his gun-arm all of a sudden, pointing it behind her.

Tifa gasped, then turned around. The man was standing there, hands raised to show that he was unarmed. He gulped.

"T-Tifa...?" He seemed unsure of himself.

Tifa knew that without a doubt, this was the man she thought he was. "Y-Yes-! You're okay...!" When the man didn't put his hands down, she turned around and put herself between the two men. "Barret, he's unarmed! He's not going to attack us."

Barret grudgingly lowered his arm, not taking his eyes off the man for a second. Tifa turned back to the man, who lowered his arms warily. "How are you feeling?"

The man patted himself, as if reassuring himself that he was no longer full of holes. "I feel great! I mean, I've been better, but I'm a lot better than I was before..." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Did you help me...?"

Tifa nodded. "We found you at the train station. You looked... terrible." She frowned, and looked away.

Barret grunted, and warily let down his guard. Tifa was okay with the man, but he still couldn't trust a SOLDIER that easily. "I've got stuff to do. Don't let 'im do any shady stuff while I'm gone!" He went out the doors.

The two stood, shifting awkwardly as they struggled to further the conversation. Tifa finally spoke up again. "I don't remember your name, I'm sorry."

The man's eyes brightened. "Oh, it's Zack! Zack Fair." He put out his hand instinctively, then looked down at his filthy gloves. "Oh, that's dirty. Whoops…"

Tifa stifled a chuckle. "Would you like a shower...?"

Zack's gratitude shone on his face very clearly. "Yes, that would be amazing. Uh, we'll talk after?"

Tifa nodded. "You might ah, also want some new clothes."

Zack looked down at his tattered, grungy shirt. "Oh, yeah. I can wear these until I get some...!" He fished through his pockets and pulled out a couple gil coins, his excitement waning. "Oh..."

Tifa just tried to keep his spirits up. _Yep, m__ay as well go all the way._ "I'll get you some, don't worry! You can pay me back later."

Zack looked like he might cry from the hospitality. No one had treated him like this in years. "Thank you so much, I owe you a ton of stuff, I promise I'll pay you back tenfold!"

Tifa cut him off before he rambled on. He hadn't changed in five whole years, it seemed. "It's okay, just go shower! It's upstairs on the left. I'll be back with some clothes, okay?"

Zack nodded. "Okay. Thank you so much, Tifa. Really." He turned and went up the stairs, leaving Tifa alone.

Tifa smiled. So he was fine. That was great! Next step was to find out what had happened to him... and what his ties to Shinra were. He seemed like he could be trusted, but she couldn't help but worry a little. Here were so many things that could go wrong about her situation. But... there were also many things that could go right. She thought about these things as she went out the door.

* * *

Zack made his way to the bathroom and closed the door, the corners of his lips upturned slightly. After such a long time of feeling alone and discarded, it was almost alien that someone would lend him a helping hand. He felt lighter, as if this simple act of good will was holding him up against the repressive forces of gravity itself—when really it just felt strange to not be so damn exhausted, and anxious, and—

He clenched his jaw, the genuine feeling of happiness in his chest slowly dissolving. It felt wrong to feel happy right now. It was just too soon. He didn't blame himself too much though, since he really was grateful. He'd forgotten what it felt like to have help, and… he didn't know if he could accept it. He didn't want anyone else caught up in his quest for vengeance. However he liked to color it—a revolution against tyranny, saving the world from pollution and corruption—it was just color, a nice veneer painted over the top of it. In truth, all he wanted was for Shinra to fall for what they'd taken from him. He'd tried to keep his head up, be optimistic and grateful for what he still had… but when they took Cloud, it was the last straw. He was all out of forgiveness. He placed his hands on the counter and clenched his fists, head hanging. He tried to at least calm himself down enough to look nice for Tifa. She was the only friend he had, now.

* * *

A/N: I didn't know how to end, whoops. Hopefully I will write more now because poor Zack muse is driving me nuts.


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